


A Quiet Interlude

by Thistlerose



Category: Glee
Genre: Cuddling and Snuggling, F/F, Ficlet, High School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 05:12:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana isn't 100% comfortable, but she knows she's safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quiet Interlude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [exiled_mind](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=exiled_mind).



The cot outside the rehearsal room isn’t exactly comfortable, but a flat surface is a flat surface, and Santana is tired. So she curls up on her side, with her knees tucked against her chest and her cheek resting on the heel of her palm. She doesn’t sleep – even though it’s late, and the Glee Club members are pretty much the only people still here, she can’t make herself relax enough – but she does manage to slip into a sort of half-doze.

She doesn’t exactly dream, but beyond her closed eyelids, the shadows of perfectly ordinary objects twist themselves into unfamiliar phantoms. She isn’t frightened – she’s Santana fucking Lopez, and on some level she knows that none of them are real – but a breath of relief catches in her throat when warm, slender arms slide around her from behind, and a pointed chin rests itself against her shoulder.

“Hi,” Brittany mumbles, squeezing gently.

“Hey,” Santana replies, without opening her eyes.

“You were twitching.”

“I was not.”

“It looked like you were.”

“Well, I wasn’t.”

“Okay.”

And, just like that, Brittany inserts Santana’s version of things into her worldview. You could practically hear it slotting into place. It’s sweet and a little sad, and Santana can’t help herself; she turns in Brittany’s arms, reaching around to ruffle her hair affectionately.

“Hmm,” Brittany sighs against her shoulder.

“We should get up,” says Santana. She tries, but she can’t keep the reluctance out of her voice.

“Little longer,” Brittany urges. “Mister Schue’s still working with the boys. Anyway, the Glee Club already knows.”

“Yeah, but—”

But what? Her friends – she guesses she can call them that, even Finn and Rachel – have shown her that they care. In a mostly clumsy, stupid manner, but – hey. It’s Glee Club. It you want class, you’re going to have to look for it somewhere else.

Anyway, they know and they care, and that’s … something. It’s hard to be tough and resentful when she and Brittany are basically entwined, and Brittany’s hair smells like her citrus-scented shampoo.

“Yeah, all right, whatever,” Santana mumbles. Telling herself that she’s just too tired to move right now – that’s her version of things – she drags her fingers through Brittany’s hair and cranes her neck to kiss her forehead.

1/06/2012


End file.
